


Comp. of all my stuff from GoogleDocs

by caskink



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 21:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14627133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caskink/pseuds/caskink
Summary: This is just a bunch of unfinished shit from my drive that i forgot about for years





	Comp. of all my stuff from GoogleDocs

The kid roughly dragged a hand through dark hair, tousling it. With a flutter of lashes, he drew Dean in closer and closer until they were mere inches apart. Heavy bass thundered in his chest as Dean leant close to the boy and copied the gyrating ‘dance’ everyone else in this damn club was doing . The kid grabbed Dean’s neck and rushed forward, smashing their mouths together ungracefully and lightly biting his lower lip. Dean swore he saw an actual fucking twinkle in the eyes of his new dance partner when he backed off and started tugging Dean toward the back rooms by his shirt front. He pressed Dean against the sticky black wall, his surprising strength driving the older man crazy.

“Hey kid, what’s your name?” Dean shouted over the eclectic pop sound pumping from the surround sound speakers.

He paused for a moment before leaning in and whispering, “Anything you want it to be, Freckles.” Dean was taken aback by the nickname he had been given.

\---------------

angsty and depressing and I swear, I tried to make it happier! X.X I hope this is at least something like what you wanted. :)

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; 

In the end, it wasn’t really anything like a funeral. It should’ve been, and it was the best they could do, but there was only so much burning a picture could resolve, and it wasn’t much at all. The hole in his chest was still there, glaring. He could still feel the heat from the explosion, still see everything he felt echoed in Sam’s eyes. 

Just like that, their family had shrunk just a little more. There wasn’t much left to whittle away, really. Just him and Sammy and Bobby and Cas, and when they were gone, that’d be it. At this rate, they wouldn’t have much longer to wait. All Dean wanted at this point was not to lose Sam to Lucifer and not to be the last one standing. That was as much as he felt like he could ask. 

He downed a shot quick and sat the glass back down on the counter, reaching up with one hand to rub at the grime on the back of his neck. His hand came away sticky, and he knew something back there was bleeding though he couldn’t remember when he’d been cut. 

“She said if I was…one of you, I needed to be able to keep up.” Castiel had come without a sound, hovering uncertainly next to the table in the semi-dark. His fingers ghosted over the shot glasses still lined up, obviously running over the scene from the night before in his mind. 

Dean cleared his throat, nodding. “Yeah. Sounds about like Ellen.” God, saying her name hurt. Everything hurt, but in such a tired way. He’d had his heart run over too many times at this point to really be phased by it. 

Castiel closed his hand around one of the glasses, squeezed until it shattered, blood and glass dripping onto the table. 

“Hey!” Dean was at his side quick, hand wrapping around his wrist and jerking it up to get a look at Cas’ hand. “Cut that out, ok? Jesus…” 

“Dean I’m…” He licked his lips, brow furrowing as he looked away. “If I hadn’t allowed myself to be trapped by Lucifer, I-“

“Stop right fuckin’ there.” He ground the words out hard, something close to a tremor in his voice. There was no way he was gonna let Cas blame himself for this, not when so much else was already shot to hell. 

“It’s true. If I had-“

“I said stop, dammit!” Dean dropped his wrist to grab his coat, shaking him just a little and shoving him back until he stumbled into the table. Dean caught him, steadying, his hands tightening in his shirt. “Now you listen to me, alright? Cas, this is not your fault, ok? It’s not your fault, and it’s not my fault or Sam’s fault or anyone else’s but Meg and those goddamn hellhounds, you understand? This is just war, Cas, and I’m sure you know that even better than I do.” 

“I’m finding…knowing it and experiencing it are two different things. Before, we were forbidden to mourn but now…” He swallowed, his eyes dropping to the floor and Dean understood, stepped in just a little closer and loosened his grip on Cas’ shirt, patting his chest with one hand. 

“Yeah. I know. I know.” 

Suddenly, Cas’ arms were around him, vise tight, his head buried against Dean’s neck. Dean held on just as tightly, slid his arms around behind his back to hold him in place. Cas’ breath was harsh and uneven against his neck, and he swallowed back everything he didn’t want to focus on. There was grief, yeah, but there was fear too, and he knew that was what had Cas squeezing the life out of him right now. For him, all of this was new. Dean had a whole lifetime to get used to the fact that in their line of work, sometimes the people you loved went out for a day on the job and didn’t come back. Not that had ever made him accept it, but he’d at least been ready for how the worst would feel, and that made some kind of difference. 

“I won’t lose you. Not like that.” His words were muffled, harsh and low against Dean’s skin and so frightened underneath it all that he wanted to promise Cas he’d never have to. What he could do was much less reassuring, but he tried anyway. He rubbed his back, gentle, pulled back slightly until Cas let him go enough that he could reach up and take his face in his hands, brushing a light kiss against his lips. 

“C’mon. Come shower with me. Think Sam’s already gone to bed on the couch.” 

Cas came with him willingly, following him upstairs. Bobby never came up here anymore so this way, they’d have a little more privacy. He shut the door behind them quietly, already shrugging his outer shirt off and pulling his t-shirt over his head before he turned to face Cas. Cas mirrored him, shrugging his trenchcoat and suit jacket off, his eyes locking with Dean’s as he let them drop to the floor. It seemed like a long time, now, since that night he’d tried to take him to a whorehouse to lose his virginity. Dean had brought him back to that old run down house and ended up taking it from Cas himself on a shabby mattress in the back room, and somewhere between the first tentative brush of Cas’ hands across his chest and the way Cas had thrown his head back and keened with Dean moving slow inside him, he’d realized this had very little to do with charity and lust and a lot more to do with something in his chest that only seemed satisfied when Cas was close to him. He’d been losing his wide eyed innocence bit by bit ever since then, and though Dean had liked it at first, the look in Cas’ eyes now was tired and hollow, and he wished like hell there was a way he could make him innocent again. Even if it meant making it so Cas had never come into his life, never pulled him from hell. It would’ve been worth it. 

“Dean?” Cas stepped in against him, his chest bare now, and Dean could feel the heat radiating everywhere they didn’t quite touch. Dean nodded, leaned to press a kiss against his shoulder. 

“M’ here.” 

Cas’ arms came around him, slower and less crushing than they had been before. His hands smoothed down Dean’s back, and Dean could feel the difference in his touch. There were calluses forming now, proof that he was becoming more human every day. He nuzzled against Cas’ shoulder, sucked at a patch of skin near his neck until he felt Cas shudder in his arms. He pulled back once he knew he’d left a mark, let his breath ghost over the bruise. The first time he’d done that where Sam could see he’d been worried afterward, afraid of what his brother would think of all of this. Sam had just quirked his eyebrows up, rolled his eyes and given Dean that “oh God you and your nymphomania” look that he’d been giving him since they were teenagers, and he’d been nearly overwhelmed with relief. Sam didn’t care, and in his mind, that had been the last hurdle. 

Dean turned his head and Cas tilted his head up to meet him, a low noise humming in his throat when Dean kissed him thoroughly, his tongue sliding deep inside when Cas opened immediately for him. Dean slid his hands down Cas’ sides, rubbing warm across his ribs before he pulled away, his hands moving to his own pants to unfasten them quickly and shove them down. Cas took care of his own, and Dean turned to the shower, twisting the knob and shoving it in to turn it on. The pipes were old in this house and it stuck, finally kicking in hard, water spraying against the opposite wall. Dean swore under his breath, reached up to push the shower head down just a little, shaking cold water off his fingers. Cas molded against him from behind, arms around his waist and lips trailing across the back of his neck. He settled into it for the moment, gave the water a chance to heat up and focused on the feel of Cas’ lips, the way his tongue flicked out every now and then, mapping the freckles Cas had once told him he already had memorized. 

When he could feel the heat from the other side of the curtain he pulled away wordlessly, his hand twisting back to take Castiel’s and pull him in the shower with him. The water was hot and the muscles in his back were still tense, and he grunted a little when the water pounded against him. He stepped back under the spray, rolled his shoulders and felt some of the tension ease. Nothing like a hot shower after a long day. Sometimes, the way they lived, it was the only comfort you got for a long, long time. Cas’ hands ran up his arms, coming up to knead his shoulders but he batted him away good naturedly, stepped forward and wrapped his fingers firm over Castiel’s hips. 

“M’fine. Let me look at you.” Really, he hadn’t gotten a good look since they’d parted ways that morning. He looked mostly unhurt, a little blood on his cheek and some dirt on his arms, courtesy of that midnight dig. And his hand…the cuts were still there, glass free but seeping blood, and Dean pulled it up to his lips, kissed his palm lightly before pulling back when he felt Cas tense. “You didn’t fix it.” 

“I didn’t want to.” 

Fair enough. He didn’t like it, but he was no stranger to wanting a little bit of pain sometimes himself. If it reminded of him of Ellen, if it helped him somehow…yeah, then it was better that he keep it for awhile. Maybe a few scars might even do him good. Or, maybe that was just another step toward five years down the road, and everything Dean had sworn he’d never see come to light. He shook his head, leaned in and caught Cas’ lips in a slow, wet kiss before he could ask why. 

When he was sure he had the angels full attention he took a breath, murmured against his lips. “Wings?” 

Cas hesitated, and that was enough to make him even more worried than he had been. He’d found out pretty quick that Cas loved having his wings touched, and he used that knowledge whenever he could. Cas loved it, so his reluctance now was telling, and they both knew it. 

“I…” He swallowed, shut his eyes and brought them up from his shoulders with hardly a thought. He sucked in a sharp breath when the water hit them, folding them in close to his back like an injured dove. They were dirty, clearly, black in places with ash and slick in others with oil, shiny burns visible here and there through the feathers. Castiel’s eyes darted away, refusing to meet Dean’s. “The fire, it effects our true selves, the form that our wings are part of, and-“

“Fucking bastard.” The growl slipped out through clenched teeth and he pulled Cas close, backing him up gently against the wall. He looked him over, a muscle in his jaw jerking when he saw a gap between feathers where he knew a flight feather had been just last night. “They hurt?” Cas barely tipped his chin down, and he lowered his head and kissed him, stopping his hesitant nod. “Don’t worry, Cas.” He kissed his way down his jaw, whispered against the hollow of his throat. “I’ll make it better. Promise.” 

He wrapped his left arm more securely around Cas’ waist to hold him trapped between Dean and the wall, reached over with his other to nudge the water down from hot to warm, more bearable on his burns. He started on the left wing, more directly in the water, and he used his hands. He tried a washcloth, at first, but it was too rough and heavy on the feathers and Cas jerked, a soft pained sound escaping his lips. He pressed a kiss to the soft feathers under the top ridge in apology, and after that, it was just his hands working gently on damp feathers. 

The ash came out easily enough if he rubbed carefully but the oil, that was more annoying. Still, with the soap and a lot of patience to not rub too hard, it came out. The burns were a whole other matter, one he knew he’d have to deal with properly once they were out and dry and he had access to a first aid kit. For the time being, it was enough that Castiel was starting to respond to his touch. 

He’d been mostly quiet while Dean worked, but now that his wings were getting a little more in order, he was able to concentrate more on the feel of Dean’s fingers through his feathers. Dean could see him biting his lip against it and he stroked the underside gently, dipping his head to mouth along the top curve of bone on his right wing. Cas moaned then, low and hungry, and when he pressed forward Dean could feel him hardening against his thigh. 

“Better?” The whisper barely reached over the sound of the water but Cas nodded, flexing his wings just a little and sighing when Dean repeated the caress. There was something so gorgeous about him like that, something beautiful and alien in the way he took such pleasure from Dean’s touch against his feathers, the way he’d moan and flap and press into the touch. 

Another stroke, and Cas thrust against his leg just a little, desperate for friction, his eyes closing as his head fell back against the tile. Lust sparked hot in his groin at the sight and Dean moaned a little, his lips working downward, a line of hot kisses across his chest. When he stepped back his leg slid from between Castiel’s leaving him nothing to grind against, and he whined softly before Dean dropped to his knees, his intensions clear. 

Castiel’s breath sped up at that, one hand curving to rest against the back of Dean’s head, his thumb brushing his temple. The grip of fingers on the back of his head hurt whatever wound it was he’d gotten back there, but Dean didn’t complain. He leaned forward instead, sucking at Cas’ hipbone and ignoring the way his erection twitched against his belly until Cas’ begged him, his soft ‘Dean, please’ echoing in the small space. 

He nuzzled the inside of his thigh, breath warm on sensitive skin. 

“Dean, I-“

“Shhh. I got ya.” He took him in his mouth then, reaching up to guide his cock just a little after it jerked hard enough to almost bob away from him. He sucked him down as best he could, his tongue working at the underside, swallowing as far down as he could go. Cas was moaning, and the sound pumped pure need into his veins faster than anything else ever could. He pulled his head back just a little, eased up on his grip on Cas’ hips and let him fuck his mouth as well as he could without losing his balance. His thrusts were short, jerky and uneven, but the hand that held Dean’s head in place was never anything but gentle, and he didn’t make him choke. Dean took a little more control for a second, pulled back to lave the slit with his tongue. The taste was salty and slick, and even when he slid back down farther he could still feel Cas leaking against the back of his tongue. He opened his mouth a little wider, let Cas thrust into him again. He was panting, now, and it was only a few more thrusts before he came, crying out quietly, his grip tightening against the back of Dean’s head. 

He swallowed easily, pulled off and stood up to pin Cas against the wall and kiss him, his heart jumping erratically at the way Cas felt against him, warm and boneless. He pulled back enough to turn him, careful of his wings as he pushed against him from behind. He palmed Castiel’s ass with one hand, his cock throbbing impatiently at the thought of being inside him. He wanted to feel the heat close around him, hear the way Cas would moan has name once he was inside but they were both tired and sore, this wasn’t exactly the best position, and he’d been hard since the minute they’d gotten in the shower. He definitely wouldn’t be able to last long. Still…

He brushed his fingers over Cas’ lips, questioning. “Cas?” Cas leaned forward to take them, sucking hard, moaning around the mouthful. He swore, slid his other hand down the squeeze the base of his cock, did his best to block out the thought of that warm, hot mouth wrapped around him. He prepared him a little quicker than he usually did, but Cas was becoming accustomed to taking him by now and the the muscle felt loose and ready when he scissored his fingers against it. He spit in his hand, slicked his cock up as best he could before positioning himself and pushing in. The angle was a little awkward, and standing on slick tile he couldn’t thrust as deeply as he would’ve liked to. 

All the same, there was nothing like being inside Cas. He let his head drop against the curve of his wing, muttered against it how hot and good and fucking tight he was. Cas pressed back against him, squirming in pleasure and moaning Dean’s name. It was more than enough, and he came quickly like he’d known he would. He jerked his head up when he did, stomach jolting pleasurably when Cas was ready to meet him with a kiss, swallowing his moan. 

He pulled out carefully, cock twitching tiredly when Cas’ breath hitched at the loss. He leaned back against the cold tile, his skin heated enough that he didn’t mind. He pulled Cas to his chest, holding him close, and they kissed lazily until the water started to cool. Cas reached over to crank it up then, and Dean was pretty sure he put a little of his mojo into it, because last he’d checked Bobby’s hot water tank hadn’t been that big. Still, not that he minded. 

Cas took the chance to take a breath, forehead resting against the wall by Dean’s ear. He sighed when Dean stroked a hand down his spine, his wings drooping as his body eased a little more of his weight against Dean. “Dean?” 

“Hm?” 

“What…what are we going to do now?” 

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, let go of Cas with one hand and brought it up to rub at his temple. He’d been afraid of that. Ever since he’d left Heaven, Dean was Cas’ new authority. The plan up until this point had been to find the Colt and kill the Devil, and of course it was only natural that he be wondering what the next step would be now. Natural or not, Dean didn’t have an answer. 

Instead of really answering, he went with what he did know. “We don’t let Sam go to Detroit. We keep him the hell away from it, as far as we can.” The urge to not lose Sam bolstered him, and his voice strengthened just a little. “You don’t ever let me leave the Impala to rust outside of some damn cabin, and I don’t ever let you start popping pills.” He could feel Cas tense against him, wondering, but now that he was talking about it was like some kind of unspoken barrier had been broken, and he couldn’t stop there. “And I don’t ever send you on a mission I know you won’t make it out of, and we never end up in a world where Bobby dies alone and Sam says yes and me and you are fucked to hell, a thousand miles apart in the same damn room.” His voice wavered a little, and he dropped his chin onto Cas’ shoulder, took a deep breath and breathed in the scent of water and soap and feathers and Cas. “We do what we can, but we never let those things happen. Cause even if we die tomorrow, I’m ok with that. Me, you, Sam, Bobby…we could go down like Ellen and Jo did today, and we’d be alright. Maybe he’d take over the world, but maybe that’s how it’s gotta go. But what we can’t ever do, is roll over and let him fuck us before he wins. There’s a difference.” 

Castiel pushed away enough to put a little space between them, leaned on one hand over him as his soft blue eyes tried to catch Dean’s. “Zachariah?” 

He laughed once, harsh. “You knew?” 

“I knew he’d shown you something that frightened you. What it was, I wasn’t sure.” 

“I didn’t want to talk about it. Still don’t, really, but…” He took a deep breath, looked down. “We can’t let that happen. And when Sam said he mentioned Detroit while I was down…dammit, Cas, I felt like I was drowning in it, you know? Like…like it’s gonna happen, no matter what I do to stop it.” 

He felt Cas’ hands on his cheeks then, warm and gentle, and he closed his eyes and let Cas pull his head down to kiss his forehead. “You already have stopped it. You won’t let yourself become what you saw, and that makes all the difference.” 

“Yeah, well I hope you’re right.” 

“So do I.” Cas went quiet, hands sliding down, one arm going around Dean’s waist, the other hand slipping to intertwine their fingers. He laid his head against Dean’s shoulder again, their heartbeats evening. “Dean?” 

“Mm?” 

“If we…if we die…when I die…you’ll burn my body?” 

He clenched his jaw, squeezed Cas’ hand impossibly tight until he felt like he could answer without ripping his own heart out. “You’re a hunter, aren’t you?” 

“Yes.” When he said it, he sounded pleased. 

Dean cleared his throat, turned to kiss the top of his head. “Think that answers your question.” 

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; 

…apparently I cannot write nice, happy, comforting Dean/Cas PWP anymore. Whenever I try, I get

\---------------------------

written on 7/20 when i was sick as heck

Cas padded carefully across the room, carrying a steaming bowl of chicken soup and a cool, damp rag. The large lump beneath the the comforters on his bed moved up and down slowly with each breath. Soup threatened to spill over the curled edges of the bowl. Cas set the bowl down on the bedside table and gently laid his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Dean, c’mon. You need to eat something,” Cas cooed. Dean groaned and pulled the blankets off of his face. He squinted, the bright light from the windows exaggerating how incredibly pale he was.

“Fine,” Dean croaked, shifting back a little and resting against the headboard. Cas lightly patted Dean’s forehead with the rag.

“At least your fever has broken,” said Cas. Dean smiled weakly and reached towards the bowl.

\-------------------------

Steve trudges up the small flight of stairs to Bucky’s front door, sopping wet and shivering. With a frail hand, he knocks and waits in the downpour for someone to answer. He hears a muffled, “One moment,” before Bucky opens his door. Steve notices Bucky is in a pair of well-worn pajamas, and he can hear the television playing from the other room 

“Oh, Steve,” Bucky coos. He ushers Steve inside and asks, “Why the hell were you out in the rain?”

Steve shrugs half-heartedly. “I wanted to come over and got stuck out there.” His clothes are dripping water onto the laminate in a small ring around him. 

“Let’s get you some dry clothes.” Bucky brings Steve to his bedroom and hands him a pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt. They could easily hold two of Steve, but he doesn’t complain. Anything is better than the clothes he’s got on; They’re clinging to him in all the wrong places and chilling him to the bone. 

Finally dressed and slowly drying, Steve shuffles into the empty living room

\-----------------------

Gasping for breath, pleading for a moment more of life, begging for the Gods' mercy: these actions are those of a dying man. At one time, he had been a beacon of hope for all around him. Thousands upon thousands of militiamen had gazed, sneered, gawked at his beauty, his power defined by a god-like stature.

Now, he stands alone. It is a dull existence for a hero if he has no family, no love to fight for. All he has left is Honor and a hope of being immortalized by the stories passed from generation to generation. 

Perhaps in another time, it may have been different. No intrusions, no discrimination, no separation.   
But it is not another time.

Achilles stands alone, heart filled with lead and tears flowing, rushing, flooding across his dust and sweat-coated cheeks.

Come, take me from this meaningless existence. Take me to Patroclus.

A single arrow, solitary just as he. It pierces, strikes dead center; He falls. A final glimpse of his fleeting life. A final beat of his failing heart. A final smile, full of teeth and choked-off giddy laughter.

In this final moment, no gasping, nor pleading, nor begging. All was done the night prior; His last look at the stars was unfulfilling and meaningless without Patroclus. They would have the entirety of eternity to share the constellations.

Take me to him.

\--------------------------

Friggin’ Birds  
for Carly @castisell  
cross-posted to tumblr and ao3

Birds chirped outside, fluttering past the window. The sun had only just risen and was creating a beautiful array of colors that filled the early morning sky. Dean rolled over, pulling the thin white sheet over his face. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. Friggin’ birds, he thought, can’t ever keep quiet and let me sleep. Castiel rustled next to him, and turned to face Dean. The light created a glow around Dean, making him seem almost angelic. Rays of light stretched across the carpet creating strange lines that highlighted the dust floating through the air. Castiel watched Dean’s shoulders move up and down beneath the sheet. He reached over, rubbing his hand down Dean’s arm.  
“Wake up, sleepy-head,” Castiel said groggily. “We have to get going soon.”  
“C’mon, Sam. Let me sleep five more minutes,” Dean replied, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. The sheet had slid down off of his face, revealing sleep-softened features. The creases around his eyes had disappeared and there wasn’t a scowl making his forehead wrinkle.  
“Hey, be glad it’s me here and not Sam. He’d be jumping on you and whacking you in the head with a pillow,” Castiel chuckled, rolling on top of Dean. He laid his head on Dean’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed slowly. It was nice to see Dean like this, all relaxed and peaceful. He was so tense and worried all the time. Every since they decided to stop hunting and start living, life had changed for the better. They were able to take a break and genuinely enjoy what little time they had left here. Dean didn’t like to talk about before; It brought up too many bad memories for him. Castiel understood and helped him work through the worst of it. They had grown closer through the years spent together. Now, they could slow down and be happy for once. They cherished moments like this, knowing that this is what living a normal life was about. Dean smiled, finally opening his eyes.  
“You’re right. He’d probably stick his feet in my face, huh?” Dean said, his laugh turned into a harsh huff of air constricted by Castiel’s weight. He rubbed Castiel’s back, holding him tightly. He hummed a soft tune, something his father used to whistle all the time. He didn’t do it normally; It was only at special times like this, when time was nothing for them.  
“You know I love you, right?” Castiel asked, nuzzling his face into Dean’s neck. Dean kissed his hair.  
“Yeah,” Dean whispered into his hair,” I love you, too.”

\-----------------

he backed cas up against the hood of the car, letting him down slowly. his heavy breath seemed too loud in the quiet summer night. dean slotted his leg between cas’s, grinding his thigh up as they tried to hold in their moans. cas gripped dean’s shirt in both hands and struggled to pull it over his head. dean quickly grabbed the smaller man’s wrists and held them against the cool metal hood.  
“not here, cas. not now. just...feel.” dean muttered between barely contained moans as he rubbed his clothed thigh against cas’s denim jeans.  
cas groaned louder with one particularly rough rut from dean. “ i just bought these jeans and my mom will be pissed-”  
“please, don’t talk about your mom right now.” dean kissed cas with an urgency that wasn’t there before. he slid his tongue across cas’s lip before darting inside. he could taste the root beer float they had shared mixed with cigarettes. the intoxicating taste drew dean in, sparking him into a fever and making him rub his whole body across cas’s in an effort to get himself off as quickly as possible. he couldn’t wait any more.  
“dean, i’m-” cas’s words were cut short by a moan and a rush of endorphins. he groaned and felt a wet spot stain his jeans.  
“fuck, cas. that’s so.. fuck!” dean shouted, his hips stuttering for a moment as he came while still fully clothed.  
they leaned against each other on the shiny black hood of dean’s car, catching their breath.

\---------------------------

tainted love//soft cell

Flashing lights and upbeat music were the two things that were a constant in Dean's life. He was always at clubs, always writhing on a dance floor surrounded by other young men who were looking for a fling. Dean was not a "bring over your bags and stay a couple nights" kinda guy; He jumped from man to man and never settled down in one place. His most recent excursion had brought him to Amsterdam when he’d tagged along with Charlie and her partner - Beatrice? Bethany? He could never remember. All he ever did was dance and drink to escape them.

Dean was the center of attention. He always was. Center stage was where he belonged. He drew the shy boys from the dark corners with his sensual movements and unusual appearance. People were attracted to his studded leather jacket and unnatural hair color and style. Boys, Girls, Everyone wanted him.

One boy in particular stood out to him, though. He looked too young to be in a place like this, too innocent. Dean stopped dancing against the stranger in front of him and spun them around to kiss them. They groaned and tried to pull him in, but he waved them off and made his way through the mob to find the boy he had seen earlier. 

After looking all over the dance club, Dean found the stranger leaning against the bar, scotch in hand. Dean approached him in an almost predatory manner with his shoulders swaying and eyes dark. He slid in next to the boy and leaned in close.

“You seem a little young to be in here, kid,” Dean said in his ear.

“And why would you care?”

Dean smirked. “I’m trying to keep the younger generation out of trouble.”

“Yeah, and you seem like a great role model,” the boy scoffed. “Piercings and green hair really say ‘I’m a good guyl!” He tapped his glass on the bar and asked for another.

“Who’s to say what’s normal?” Dean asked, grabbing the newly poured scotch off the counter and taking a sip.

“That’s very true,” he said as he snatched his drink away. “I’m Cas, by the way. In case you were planning on trying to take me home with you.”

“What makes you think I was going to do that?” Dean said with faux innocence. 

“You came in alone and started dancing with people. I saw you look at me. You detached yourself from someone you were obviously interested in to come and talk to me,” Cas said matter-of-factly. He paused, waiting for Dean to answer. Cas sighed, “Alright, now this is the part where you tell me your name and take me out to dance.”  
“Dean. Let’s go.” Cas laughed and grabbed Dean’s arm. They wormed through the crowd to the center just as ‘Tainted Love’ started playing.

“Oh, I love this song!” Cas squealed. He shouted the lyrics, snapping his hips to the beat in front of Dean. Halfway through the song, Dean grew tired of just watching and pulled Cas in, kissing him roughly. Cas kissed back, his tongue darting into Dean’s mouth. He moaned as Dean grabbed his hips and ground them together. They danced together for the remainder of the song before Cas separated their lips.

“You really are a bad, bad influence, Dean.”

“Yeah, I know.”

\--------------------------

maybe for the fic thing with mel??? ?? ? ? ? MAYBE ?? ??? ? ? i wrote this when i was hella sick im sorry if its shit

 

Dean helped an intoxicated Castiel in through the front door, half carrying the smaller man across the foyer and into the living room. Cas couldn’t stop giggling, hadn’t stopped since they left the bar. His staple trench coat was hanging off of his shoulders, the bottom dragging across the laminated wood floor. Dean heaved him onto the couch and flopped down next to him. He unwrapped his scarf and casually tossed it onto the coffee table, hoping he wouldn’t forget it when he left.

“Dean, have I ever told you that I really like your glasses?” Castiel asked, slurring his words.

Dean paused for a moment, trying to remember. “Come to think of it, I don’t think you have,” he replied. He reached to grab the remote control for the television, but his hand was swatted down by Cas.

“No T.V. I wanna kiss you,” Cas muttered, grabbing Dean around the neck and roughly pulling him down. He kissed Dean, open-mouthed and sloppy. Fighting his way in, Cas clanked his teeth against Dean’s a few times before he finally relaxed a little and they could move in tandem. Dean could still taste the beer on his tongue, bitter and biting. Cas shifted beneath him, moving his hand down the nape of Dean’s neck and tugging lightly at the lapels of of his jacket. Dean pulled away for a moment to shrug off his jacket and discard his beanie on the floor, not caring where they fell. Cas wrestled with his coat and threw it down as well before falling atop Dean again. Neither took charge, both of them moving together, breathless and quickly craving more and more.

Quickly, Cas backed away, lips bruised and cheeks flushed. Dean, stunned, let his hands slide off of Castiel’s shoulders. With what little of his brain wasn’t thinking sexsexsex at this point, Cas couldn’t help but remember what making out was a prelude to. It always led to something with a lot less clothing and a lot more Yes and Please. He had never been the casual fling kind of guy, but this time he said, “Fuck it,” and started pulling at the hem of Dean’s shirt with a newfound determination that came along with a sudden sobriety.

Dean gave in to Castiel’s deft hands and let himself be slowly stripped of his shirt. After it was removed and left in a pile with the other articles of clothing, Cas stood and dragged Dean up with him, leading him up the carpeted stairs. They stumbled into Castiel’s dimly lit bedroom, the only light coming from the open windows. Dean fell backwards onto the low bed, landing not-so-gracefully on a pile of pillows that he then scattered onto the floor around him. Cas slowly undid every button on his shirt, making Dean practically whimper in front of him. 

\----------------------------------

It was him. The new kid on the block. Walking down the street surrounded by dogs of every shape and size. How the hell did he keep them from getting tangled together? Of course one would drop a bomb on Mrs. Lancaster’s lawn. They always did. That conscientious little shit, whipping out his eco-friendly, baby powder scented, paw print decorated turd bags. Scooping it up and tossing it into that stupid plastic thing he had clipped on his pants. Oh, crap. He’s looking over here. Smiling, waving. Keeping all the dogs in line. Screw you, kid.

Dean hadn’t realized that the lawn mower had been idling the whole time he stood there giving that stupid kid the stink eye. The gas tank was nearly empty and he didn’t want to use his own hard-earned money running into town to buy more right now. With a grunt, he pushed the mower across the lawn, muttering insults at the dumb kid who was stealing all his customers as he practically pranced down the sidewalk with all his dumb pets in tow.

Him. Castiel. Goes by Cas at school. Hell, he already had a nickname and it hadn’t even been a month. Dean resented the poor kid just for existing. Cas was some kind of super math geek. All the teachers called him ‘The Human Calculator’. He could solve any problem you put in front of him quicker than you could say, “Free college tuition.” Not a week after all his junk was moved in, Cas had a steady job. A job that was Dean’s. He would walk any and all dogs for the same price and could calculate the cost of any extra services in 10 seconds flat, right in front of whatever poor sap he had suckered into switching from their regular dog walker (Dean, in this case) to him. 

Cas was eligible for a million other part-time jobs in this town. Cashier at the local drug store. Waiter at the fancy Italian place that people could only afford if it was for some special occasion. Bagger at the grocery store. But he chose to be Dean’s only competition and take mutts out for a walk rather than their owners getting off their butts and doing it themselves.

Dean had applied for countless jobs, but everyone had turned him down for one reason or another. The only person to even consider him had only done so because he was, according to her, “the finest man she had ever laid eyes on.” He politely declined with a, “No way in Hell”, and continued his search elsewhere.

Then, out of sheer luck, he came across an ad on last week’s paper for a dog walker. Some people were going out of town and their “poor little shnookums” needed to get out of the house every day or it’d have a friggin’ conniption fit. Honestly, he wasn’t too interested in the job until he saw that they’d be willing to pay a bunch for just watching the dog and feeding it every day. Snatching the paper off his sleeping dad’s chest, Dean called the number and spent the next week running between school and a super fancy house in the nicest neighborhood to take care of ‘little shnookums’(who turned out to be a 125 pound mutt that wouldn’t stop slobbering all over his shoes).

\----------------------------

Cas exhaled shakily and watched his breath form little clouds, trying to make the tightness in his chest dissipate.You can do this, he thought to himself, It’s just one little song. He’ll like it, right? Right. He’ll say yes and it won’t be weird later. He picked at a loose thread on the hem of his sweater until it came out. This was ridiculous. He shouldn’t be this worried. This was Dean he was talking about! 

They had been friends for years - ever since Dean and his brother had moved in to the fixer-upper down the road. Cas had always wondered about his feelings towards Dean. Now that they were in their final year of school, Cas figured he might as well take action and find out if Dean felt the same way.The biggest dance of the year was coming up - the Sadie Hawkins - and neither of them had dates. Dean had been asked by almost every girl in their grade, but he had turned all of them down without thinking twice. Cas decided to take a chance and ask Dean, too. What’s the worst that could happen? Dean would turn him down? He’d think that Cas wasn’t worth his time? He wouldn’t want to speak to him ever again? If he didn’t try, then he’d never know what Dean would say. 

That’s what brought him here.

The guitar strapped around him bounced lightly against his back with every step Cas took. Its well-worn strap fit perfectly into the groove of his shoulder, and he felt comforted by the weight of it. With every step he took, he grew closer and closer to Dean’s doorstep. For the past week, Cas had been learning one special song, memorizing it until he could pick each string perfectly with his callused fingers. Learning it was the easy part, however. Building up the courage to actually go to Dean’s home and sing to him? That was tough. He knew how strange it would be if Dean actually said yes. People wouldn’t be expecting Dean - hard-rock playing, typical tough guy Dean - to go to the dance with Cas, of all people. 

Cas hadn’t realized that he was in Dean’s yard until he felt grass tickle his ankle. He snapped out of his thoughts, and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. A glance towards Dean’s open window was all he needed to prepare himself. With the guitar now swung back over his shoulder, he placed his fingers on the strings, quickly growing accustomed to the feeling of it in his hands again. He closed his eyes, and began to play.

 

Dean sat in his room, trying to write an essay as an extra-credit assignment. After staring at a blank page for an hour, he started to believe that he’d never finish it. Maybe I could get Cas to help. He’s good with stuff like this, thought Dean. He chewed on the eraser of his pencil and rocked his chair back on two legs. All of a sudden, he heard a faint guitar coming from somewhere outside. He figured it must be Sam playing one of his CDs again. Then, he heard a familiar voice singing to him, and he quickly got up from his chair to look out of his window. There, standing in his front yard, was Cas, serenading him from Dean’s patchy and overgrown lawn. It seemed unreal. He played every note perfectly, and his voice carried up to Dean’s window, making him stare wide-eyed down at Cas. Dean had heard the song only once before; It was one of those alternative bands he usually hears coming from Cas’s room.

Cas’s fingers moved deftly over the tight strings, and he sang with his whole soul, “Honey you should know, that I could never go on without you.” His heart was floating up, up out of his chest, up to Dean’s.

The song ended much too soon for Dean’s liking, and he felt tears warming his cheeks when it was over. Cas waved to him, calling him down from his room. Dean sprang from his perch on the windowsill and rushed out of his room, taking the steps down two at a time. He threw open the door to find Cas standing on the mat, biting his lip. He always does that when he’s nervous.

 

Cas gnawed on his bottom lip as he walked towards the front door. After setting the guitar down, he shoved his hands in his pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting. He heard Dean’s heavy footfalls on the stairs as he raced down. A blast of warm air shocked him when Dean opened the door and beamed. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, nearly lifting him off the ground. He grunted and let himself be caught in Dean’s bear hug. Eventually, Dean finally placed him back down fully on his own two feet. Cas chuckled and swept his hair out of his eyes.

“Cas, what are you… what was that for?” Dean asked quietly, stuttering, his eyes shining. Cas shrugged, and pulled the stretched sleeves of his dark sweater over his knuckles.

“This is kind of stupid, but I was wondering if you wanted to go to that school dance with me?”

Dean didn’t know what to say. He never thought that Cas - quiet, quirky Cas - would want to go to a Girl’s Choice dance with him. He quickly gathered his thoughts and leaned forward, their noses almost touching. Cas looked into his eyes as if he was trying to read Dean’s thoughts. Without hesitation, he moved the rest of the way to Dean, and kissed him for the first time. Liquid heat moved through Cas, warming him from the inside out.

He pulled away briefly to ask, “Well?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” Cas asked, a disbelieving look on his face.

“Of course. But just so you know, this kinda makes you the girl in this relationship.”

“I know,” Cas scoffed. He hugged Dean’s sturdy frame, and buried his face into Dean’s chest.

“You’re going to have to play that song for me again sometime.”

“I will, Dean. I will.”

=======================

Green. Deep, Dark, Dangerous green. Fear and Anger and Guilt and Sadness and Empathy. A color he knew all too well. A color he loved with his entire being. A color he hated with his whole soul.

He knew what that color meant. It meant happiness and hurting and hope and hatred. It meant so many things to him. He didn’t know what to think of it anymore.

He thought he would brighten that color. Change it to something lighter. Maybe a soft pastel. Maybe a glowing jade. Maybe he could make it better. Maybe he couldn’t do anything at all.

He tried to help. Supported him. Loved him. Cared for him.

It was no use.

He was gone.

\------------------

“Dean, do you remember what you told me when we first began dating?” Castiel asked as he twiddled his thumbs. He sat at the foot of the bed, not meeting Dean’s eyes.

“It depends on what we were talking about. Was it about not kissing in front of Sam, or the whole ‘I’ll watch over you when you sleep’ thing?” Dean asked, slipping off his boots and shoving his socks inside.

“When you said you’d wait for me, what did you mean?”

Dean gave him a puzzled look before going to flop down on the bed next to him. “I meant that if you didn’t want to do anything, you know - intimate - just yet, i’d wait for you.”   
Cas sighed with relief before turning to Dean to say, “ I think I want to now.”

I think I want to now. The words bounced around in Dean’s brain like a ping pong ball, reverberating in every corner of his mind.

“Cas, are you-”

“Yes,” Cas interrupted,” I’ve thought about it a lot, and I think… I think i’m ready.” He grabbed Dean’s face in his hands and pressed a kiss to his chapped lips, melting into it. Dean grabbed the collars of Cas’ coat and tugged lightly. Cas parted his lips, letting Dean’s tongue tangle with his own. Dean slipped the shoulders of Cas’s coat off, leaving the rest to him. Cas shrugged it off and tossed it at the end of the bed before reaching for the hem of Dean’s shirt and lifted it up. He got the hint, and removed it in one quick motion. Cas pulled back and struggled with the cuffs of his shirt sleeves before Dean unbuttoned them for him. He yanked his tie off and unbuttoned the shirt as quickly as he could, throwing them off in the same direction as his coat. With a slight twist of his ankle, he toed off his dress shoes and socks and slipped his pants down his legs, leaving him in only a thin pair of underwear. Dean kissed the point between Cas’s neck and chin, sending shivers down Cas’s spine. He made a soft “Mmm” noise, and grabbed the back of Dean’s neck.

 

Dean slowly trailed his lips down Cas’s chest, leaving lingering kisses in his wake. It felt like pure heat with every press, every touch against Cas’ skin, burning him. He writhed beneath Dean, his hips pressing up and into the other’s. The rub of denim against his cotton boxer shorts was almost too much for him to handle.

“Take. Them. Off,” Cas said, and he grabbed the sheets in his sweaty palms. Dean glanced up at Cas, a smug expression on his face.

“Someone’s pushy, huh?” Dean said with a smirk. “Alright, alright. Give me a second.” He crawled backwards off the bed and onto the floor, landing next to the pile of Cas’s clothes he had discarded earlier. Cas groaned inwardly, silently begging for Dean to hurry up. Jeans were unbuttoned and off in a matter of seconds, falling to the floor unnoticed as greedy hands roamed.

\----------------------

My beloved,

I love you so much. Please know this. I know how hard it must be to deal with what you deal with every day. Actually, I don’t know, I wish I could. I wish so badly I could help you through all this shit. I wish I could take you in my small arms and give you the world. I wish I could hold on to you and not let anyone harm you. You are so special, you are the earth’s core, you are the beauty of nature. You bring life, you bring happiness, you bring light. You are filled with the most heart I’ve ever seen in anyone. I know you’d say “I didn’t used to be…” Yes, you did. You just didn’t realize it.   
I may not know what it’s like to be in an eternal war with yourself, or to battle your family, or to even know what it’s like to kill. But I do know what its like to be forgotten, to be left behind, to be shut out and stabbed in the back. I know what its like to lose all hope. To lose all faith you’ve ever had. I know what its like to want to reach out to someone, even though you know no one’s there. I’ve been there. It sucks. Being human sucks, you get one life and its short and troublesome and very, very hard to take care of. I’m sorry that you have so many enemies. I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with other people’s issues. I have to too. I don’t know why but, people hand their issues to us. They think we can help, and we try and try and try our best, but sometimes it just fucks up. And other times we assume things we don’t mean to, and we end up fucking that up too. We consume into self pity, hatred and yet continue to help others. Its just what our big hearts do.   
you listen to me alright? Don’t let yourself crumble, please. You don’t deserve to fall, you should be the light and joy in everyone’s world. No, not should be, you are. Please just hear me out. Think about all the times you’ve made someone smile, or laugh or saved someone’s life. The person I know, is strong. They are brave. They are this immense feeling of relief, and love and calm peace. They are someone to look up to. They are someone to fall in love with. In fact, I have done just that. I’ve fallen in love with you. I can put this metaphorically the best way I can. I have fallen all the way from heaven and I have fallen straight into a garden that grows full. Do you know what it grows? It grows flowers, flowers of all types. And its all you. The white flowers, the pink ones, the yellow, the blue. They are all this beautiful assembly of life and air and music to my existence. You-..You bring me hope. I hope to see you one day. I hope to hug you. I hope to tell you all the things I love about you in person. I hope you become happy, and I hope you stay that way. I hope we hold each other in our arms and spend all night reminiscing of all the things we’ve done that somehow match up. That somehow, seem like we are talking to ourselves from some other place in the universe. Like the twin of your star has come and visited. Like two galaxies have collided and made life. 

 

 

I am in love with you. You take words from my lips and spread them across the light of the sky. They disappear and I get lost. I love every bit of you. Every huge glowing part of you. Sometimes a person will go out to the ocean at night, and stare. They will stare out at the waves crashing and crashing over and over. They will remember the things they’ve done and let them crash along with the waves, let them dissolve in the sand. They will let the fresh air of the new waves, the new memories fill their body and renew their head. You get lost in your own mind. You are that ocean. You make me feel like I could stare at you forever and always find something new to think about.   
Your lips are gorgeous.  
Your eyes match your heart. Giant and caring and..galactic? yeah.  
Your hair is just as messy and your decisions, but don’t worry, it’s cute.  
Your hands are big, but they are gentle. It’s kinda like a child caring toward a bug.  
Your eyebrows, they show every thought in your mind.   
Your love, your love shines brightest. You can always tell when you love someone. And I admire that. 

You may take this letter any way you like. You may take all the things I say in this letter and throw them in the sky as you do with my words from my lips. Or you could take this letter and realize that everything on here is true, that you are everything I’ve ever dreamed of. That is what I wish you would do. I wish you could take my words and hold them dear to your mind, and remember that you are special.

Yours truly,  
With much love and care.

S.

\----------------------------------

So I had a dream that I threw a party in my hotel room, and I invited everyone in the hotel to come up. Apparently, Castiel and Dean were staying there and decided to come. The whole snack table was covered in Cheetos. Cas got hungry, and I got him a plate of chips. He really liked it, and the dream was really cute, so I decided to share the dream with you all. I swapped myself with Dean so I didn’t write from first person and weird anyone out or anything. Hope you guys like it.  
\----------------------------------  
“It is quite loud in here, is it not?” Cas shouted over the music. He scooted closer to Dean, leaning towards him. They were at some girls party, one of Sam’s friends. Cas had been sitting on the couch the whole time, watching people dance around and mill around the buffet table.He kept staring at the one large bowl of Cheetos in the center.   
“Yeah, it is,” Dean said, speaking close to his ear. Dean followed Cas’ gaze, noticing the crunchy fluorescent orange chips as well. “Cas, are you hungry or something?”  
“Why do you ask?”  
“Well, you’re eyeing those chips like you want to jump on the table,” Dean laughed.   
Cas shrugged, unsure if he should get some, or ask Dean to get it. “Yes, I think I would like one. Would you mind maybe...getting me a few?” He asked nervously.  
Dean nodded, pushing himself up from the couch. He grabbed a plate, and scooped some chips on to it. He worked his way back through the crowd to the couch. Cas’ eyes widened when he saw the small mountain of chips. Dean squeezed between Cas and another man passed out on the couch, trying not to spill his plate. Cas took the plate carefully from Dean’s hands, his eyes wide. He put one in his mouth, chewing slowly.Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he made a quiet “mmm” noise. Cas began shoveling the chips into his mouth, chewing quickly.  
“These are--amazing--Thank you,” Cas said between bites.  
“Anything for you, dude.”

 

(sorry if that was really bad. i just felt like i had to write it out.)  
Take part in the jarpad birthday project (jpbp) and help wish jared a happy birthday!! more info on how to join here 

\--------------------------------------

“Hey,” Dean slurred, the smell of beer on his breath, “Wanna make out?”

Castiel stared at him, wide-eyed and unblinking. He had been quietly crushing on Dean since the first time he had borrowed a pencil from Cas in their shared Biology class. It soon became a habit for them; Dean would “forget” his pencil, and Cas always had one sharpened and ready for him. Eventually, they began sitting together at lunch and the two quickly bonded over a shared music taste and sense of abandonment by their fathers. Over the years, Castiel’s feelings for Dean grew from teen crush to the point where as soon as they parted, he had to rush home and get off as quickly as he could to the fleeting image of Dean’s tongue running over his pink, pink lips in concentration and his callused hands that had so carefully gripped the pencil. Every time he came, a sense of disappointment took the place of bliss. Dean was the school’s typical pretty boy who looked like the devil in disguise when he was working at the local auto shop. Castiel was the quiet one who got participation medals in every sport he played and had held the position of debate team captain for two years. Cas kept his feelings to himself and tried to come to terms with the fact that he didn’t have a chance..

Until, of course, the fall of their junior year. Dean had been invited to his boss’ birthday party, and Castiel happily tagged along. Now, not even an hour in, Dean had been drinking like there was no tomorrow without the supervision of his no-nonsense brother. Cas had been standing in the corner of the room holding his lukewarm can of Coke when Dean slid in next to him just as Generic Country Song #8 started playing. Cas could feel his skin buzzing with the heat of Dean being so close to him and bringing those same lips he had jacked off to the thought of so many times being less than an inch away from his face.

And now here they are, Dean drunk off of cheap beer and Cas scared out of wits.

“What?” Castiel croaked, his mouth feeling like it had been stuffed full of cotton balls.

“C’mon, Cas. I know you’re not having fun. I’m bored and I want to kiss you. We could go to my house and you could stay for a while...” Dean trailed off, leaning heavily against Cas.

Castiel’s conscience shouted at him, No! It’s a mistake. It’ll ruin the best friendship you’ve ever had. It won’t mean anything to him. You’ll regret-

“Sure,” Cas stuttered.

Dean smiled, tossing his car keys to Cas. “You drive.”

Cas caught the keys and quickly followed Dean to his car. He felt his heart beat at rabbit speed in his chest and prayed that no one could hear it over the blaring music. Dean waved a goodbye to his boss as they left through the office door. Cas led his drunken friend to the sleek black car and helped him in before shakily slipping into the driver’s side. Driving out of the pothole-filled parking lot, Cas turned the car’s stereo on to play a random cassette. He tried to distract himself from Dean and the heat in the car despite the cool breeze flowing in through the open window. Hands at the Ten and Two, Castiel reminded himself. Look out for the street signs. Ignore Dean’s hand on your thigh. Stop at the red sign. Ignore Dean staring at you like he wants to eat you as a midnight snack. Turn left at the gas station. Ignore Dean’s hands pulling at your shirt. Ignore him breathing against your neck. Ignore Dean’s hands moving down, down-

“Dean!” Cas shouted, slamming on the brakes just before an intersection. “What are you-”

“Forget my house,” Dean interrupted, “Pull into the back of Biggerson’s.” He took Castiel’s cheek in hand and was pulling him over to press their lips together for a brief kiss. Cas was frozen, his lips unmoving. Dean pulled away and rested his hand high on Cas’ thigh again and squeezed it lightly, startling him. Cas sped through the intersection and turned into the fast food chain’s lot and parking in the darkest corner. Dean immediately unbuckled himself and Cas, dragging his timid friend over to the other half of the seat and melding their mouths together. Now that the shock of the first kiss was over, Cas could let himself go fully and move in tandem with Dean. He felt Dean trying to fight his way in and opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. He could taste the beer Dean had been drinking earlier. He could smell the smoke on his shirt from the grill he had stood near at the party. He could feel Dean’s hands playing with the frayed hem of his borrowed Kansas City Chiefs sweatshirt. His oversized hand-me-down jeans suddenly felt constricting and the air in the car was stuffy and overheated. The radio was still softly playing music in the background, and Dean paused to turn up the volume. He reached down to rub at Cas through his jeans, and Cas let out a surpressed moan that Dean wouldn’t have heard over the music if he hadn’t been inches away. He blushed a bright red, and Dean licked his lips as he started unzipping Castiel’s jeans. Cas groaned, the tightness in his pants suddenly relieved.

“Cas,” Dean whispered, quickly becoming serious, “is this okay?”

“I’ve been thinking about this for years, Dean. Yes, it’s okay.” Cas quickly took charge and pulled Dean in again. He felt deft hands slip into his now open jeans and rub against his boxers, the pressure almost unbearable. Dean quickly pulled Cas’ dick out of his pants, slowly moving his fist up and down with confidence. 

“Fuck, Dean,” Castiel moaned, drawing out his friend’s name. Dean smirked and began moving his fist in earnest, rubbing his thumb down the vein underneath and spreading the pearls of precum down the shaft, easing some of the burning friction. Cas gritted his teeth and felt the pleasure sparking up and down his spine and making his toes curl. He tried to hold himself back. After years of pining and dozens of tissue boxes and socks wasted, reality was almost unbearable. It all seemed too good to be true.

Cas started gasping and moaning as his thighs started to shake uncontrollably. Dean picked up his pace, and Cas said, breathy, “Dean, fuck, I can’t--I’m going to-”

"Let go, Cas. C’mon, you can do it. Fuck, this is so hot,” Dean groaned. He kissed Castiel, rough and bruising and bit his lip. The floodgates inside Cas broke and he came with a high-pitched moan all over Dean’s fist. He leaned back against the worn leather seat to catch his breath. Dean quickly wiped his hand off on his jeans, hoping Sam wouldn’t notice the dried spot when he got home.

“I guess I owe you one,” Cas said, zipping his jeans.

“Damn right you do.”

Music still played from the speakers, slowly fading to the next song. Dean reached to turn it off and rested his head on the door, yawning quietly.

“Take me home, Cas.” 

“Sure,” Cas replied, turning out of the empty parking lot and driving down the dimly lit streets to Dean’s weather-beaten house. They pulled into the cracked driveway and Cas handed the car keys to Dean. He climbed out of the car,

\--------------------------------------

rompt: I didn’t know what was happening at the time.

 

Steve didn’t really understand what was happening at the time. Natasha had   
Bruce in a headlock. Clint was arguing with JARVIS, saying the AI had “burnt his cookies for the last damn time”. And Tony was trying to keep a squealing little girl from shooting his eye out with the prototype for a new stun gun he’d been working on.

Needless to say, Steve was more than a little concerned.

_

“Yo, Cap, check your 6!” Hawkeye called, battling an adversary far too strong for him. He lunged forward, luckily being able to knock the machine down just as the Captain kicked overhead to reach another StarkBot gone haywire.

\---------------------------------

this is all i could find for now but if i find more lol ill post em


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